By elbowing fiercely, Gary made sure he was at the door when the train reached Hereford station. He crossed over to the other platform. What luck! The display said a train was due in fifteen minutes. Ten minutes later, the display said that it was delayed by twenty minutes. Five minutes after that, it said the train was cancelled. ‘I’ll never, ever travel by train again,’ he thought. Then, belatedly, ‘Why not take a taxi!’ With £384 million, he could afford to. Or run his own Rolls with a personal chauffeur.
If there was a taxi, of course. It was Sunday evening after all, and this wasn’t London. But his lucky day! At that moment a taxi arrived and deposited an elderly lady, three suitcases and a dog. He accosted the driver before he could escape.
‘Angel Hotel, Abergavenny,’ he cried. ‘Name your price!’
It was when they reached the hotel that Gary realized his wallet was missing. Someone, sometime on the crowded train from Newport… With sorrow, he parted with his Rolex Oyster, his pride and joy, to a very happy taxi driver. But, tomorrow, I can buy a dozen Rolexes, he thought as he stepped into the foyer. It is nothing to me now…
[to be continued…]
Oliver is a member of the Abergavenny writing group THE WORD COUNTS. You will be able to read the next episode of his story in the May issue of the Abergavenny Focus.
Contribution by Oliver Barton